


The Talk

by ShootingStarNeo



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Awkward Conversations, F/M, In which sexytimes are hinted at but not explicit enough for a mature rating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 20:03:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShootingStarNeo/pseuds/ShootingStarNeo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's awkward no matter how old you are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Talk

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my "I'm sorry" for the sappy smut that was "Pumpkin Spice." So here is something that's actually thought out and that I tried to make funny.

It’s difficult for a Sburb player to draw the line in terms of weird. For what exact variety of freaky shit amongst a veritable menagerie of freaky shit qualified as too freaky a shit? You could’ve drawn the line at the Weird Time Shit, for one. Or the aliens. Or your orange-feathered, like-minded (and like-faced, and like-voiced, and like-everything else) guide. Or finding out one of your best friends was your twin sister and your brother was totally your dad.

Actually, you could’ve drawn the line at your brother, when you found him lying dead with his own sword lodged in his chest.

You could’ve drawn the line in the Furthest Ring, at any point in the Furthest Ring, when you one-upped Haley Joel Osment a thousand-fold with your dead-people-watching – or when you saw them all murdered a second time, saw a starburst of deadly light bloom in the void for a fraction of a second before reality itself shattered like glass. You could’ve drawn the line there and no one, living or dead, would blame you for it. Or you could just file all of it under the same folder, call that folder “Weird Sburb Shit”, scratch the line into the ground around it, bury it somewhere and never touch it again.

The point was, you’d seen so much freaky shit, you’d thought there was nothing left that could phase you – not when you’d finally met up with Egbert and Harley, and Jade confessed she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you for three whole years, not when you’d survived a brush with Jack Noir, and certainly not when you met your brother again, finally – albeit younger, and just a bit different.

Oh, and dating Egbert-Harley Grandpa-dad Jr. That threw you for a loop, but you still congratulate yourself for only staring blankly with your mouth open until they finished their game of tonsil hockey  and noticed you, instead of running out of the room screaming bloody murder because what the flying fuck.

Egbert-Harley Grandpa-dad Jr. got you back, though. _Some_ genius told him about Jade and you and he wound up charging into your room, demanding to know what your intentions were with his paradox-grandmother/granddaughter/daughter. You did freak out then, but he had a shotgun in his hands so you felt justifed in doing so.

You sit aross from Jake English now. Jade sits next to you. Your Bro sits next to Jake. You are, in Jade’s words, going to talk this out like _mature_ 16-somethings.

You hold that such a feat would be impossible for English, but bless him, he’s making an effort.

“So,” says English, “you, young man, are courting my grandmother… Grand-daughter… daught- Jade. You’re courting Jade.”

He isn’t screaming it at the top of his lungs this time, nor is he kicking down your door. You’d bet the shotgun is still sitting in his sylladex, though.

“And you’re banging my brother,” you say. Jake turns bright red.

“M-Mr. Strider! We’ve only just begun going out, we’ve done nothing of the sort!”

“Yet,” Bro adds. Jake buries his head in his hands.

“Dirk, you aren’t helping…”

Jade leans forward and pats his shoulder supportively. “It’s okay, Jake. What were you going to say to Dave?”

Jake looks up and clears his throat, still ruffled and red in the face, but having regained enough composure to speak. “Uhm, right, yes. As Jade’s sort-of paradox-guardian, I think it’s only fair that I give you the… _talk_.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, Jesus Christ. Even _my_ Bro never had to give me the talk. That’s what the internet’s for.”

“I’m only trying to look out for your safety!”

“Yeah? And maybe that’s what I’m trying to do for Br- Dirk!”  Dirk _smiles_ at you for that, the smug fucker.

“Well, we don’t have the same… concerns to attend to that you and Jade do!”

“What, I’m not allowed to worry about you getting my Bro knocked up?”

Dirk snorts with laughter and Jake breaks off into shocked spluttering again. You don’t know why the hell he thought he could be the adult here. The guy can barely talk about kissing without turning redder than your God Tier pajamas.

“I-I’m trying to be mature about this, Dave!”

“And so am I. I am as concerned as you are about everything that could happen to you when you’re wrapped in the throes of raging homolust. Like, you could have premartial sex. And die. No matter what position you use,” you say in flawless deadpan. The reference flies right over Jake’s head, but if you can read Dirk like you could your brother, he’s dying of laughter inside.

 _”Dave,_ ” Jake says weakly. Dirk mercifully heads him off and puts an arm around his shoulders.

“Okay,” he says, “Jake, I think they’ll be fine. Pre-Scratch me put a pretty good head on his shoulders, so you know the drill, don’t you, Dave?”

“’Safe, sane and consensual,’” you recite. “’Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and if you do, name it after me.’ And you,” you add to a red-faced Jake, “same to you, man.”

Jade interrupts. “Jake, what he means is use protection. And lube. And go slow when you’re just starting-“

 _”What?”_ you and Jake both exclaim, mutually surprised at sweet, innocent little Jade Harley giving her paradox-grandpa-dad a sex ed lesson. Jade just shrugs.

“What? I’ve been through this stuff.”

 _”When?”_ you ask. “I mean goddamn you were on a ship with John and the sprites and a bunch of salamanders for company, who would you-“

“Davesprite,” she says, with zero prelude.

There’s a long pause.

“With a _sprite?_ ” Jake bursts out, incredulous.

Jade eyebrows rise mischieviously. “He was _very_ versatile with his tail.”

Now you and Jake have something in common; you both want to crawl in a hole and die. And you just know Dirk, the stoic bastard, is having a grand old time laughing at your pain.

“I’ve been curious,” Dirk says _(no no no no no you shut your mouth_ right now _don’t you dare make this any worse)_. “Would a sprite, given a particular prototyping, say, an animal with intact reproductive functions, still retain-“

“No!” you burst out. “Damnit Bro I don’t want to think about alternate-bird-me’s… _sperm cheeto!_ ” The euphemism rises to your mind out of nowhere and you regret giving it voice immediately. Dirk’s still laughing and it makes you want to punch him.Worse, now he and Jade are both laughing and you have half of a mind to hang yourself with your cape.

Jade is unsympathetic to your pain. Instead, she leans forward and says to Dirk in a conspiratorial whisper, “he does.”

 _”Why,”_ you bleat, desperately wanting the conversation back to you tormenting English. He’s not faring much better. His paradox-daughter’s sexual revelations have paralyzed him entirely.

“Like I said,” Jade continues, through giggles, “lube. Makes it _way_ easier. Just remember, oil-based stuff hates latex-“

“Yeah, I know,” Dirk says. “Don’t mix oil and latex, silicon with silicon toys-“

“Oh, jeez, I learned that the hard way…”

“When were you using toys!?” Jake blurts, breaking finally from his petrified state. “I mean, what- I mean, _why?_ ”

Only then does Jade have the decency to blush. “Uhh…”

Dirk comes to her rescue. “Hey, everyone does it. You wanna see my collection?”

Jake starts to say something (most definitely “no”), then glances around, eyes meeting Jade’s, then your’s, then back to Dirk’s. “…maybe later.”

“And I’d be happy to lend you and Dave some,” Dirk says calmly to Jade. “Y’know, when you’re ready.”

“I’d rather set myself on fire,” you say firmly.

Dirk raises his eyebrows. “Kinky. Anyway, I think we’ve covered all the bases here. Dave, you be good to Jade. Jake’s still got the shotgun.”

“And I have a sword,” you say tersely as Jade takes your arm and begins to lead you away. _”And_ I’d be happy to orchestrate a role-reversal of the severed head stunt _you_ apparantly pulled!”

“That was Strider’s idea!” Jake calls over his shoulder. Dirk laughs and you watch him catch Jake on the lips as he turns back around.

“Hey, I almost forgot,” Dirk says to you, like an afterthought. “Think fast, Harley!”

He tosses something to the two of you and Jade’s spacey thing snatches it out of the air.

It’s a blueberry-flavoured condom.

You look back at your paradox-dad-brother. He gives you a thumbs-up and mischievious smirk, then wisely vacates the premises with Jake.

Jade tilts her head at the small wrapper in her hand. “Why would he have this with him?”

You grimace. “I’m trying not to imagine.”

 


End file.
